My King at Night
by anarchytissues
Summary: Daiya is a novice prostitute and happens across a young man that probably shouldn't be drinking in Zone 1. Stupid. [Rock/OC BECAUSE WE DON'T HAVE ENOUGH OF THOSE AMIRITE? Pre-movie. ]


_My moon, my life_  
_My stars, my sun_  
_You are the sweetest song_  
_My king at night_  
_I wanna look you in the eye_  
_My moon, my moon, my sun_  
-Dragons, Princess Nokia

* * *

The sound of people yammering in the damp, dark alleyways and footsteps echoed like church bells in her ears. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mouth was sticky yet dry while butterflies swam in swarms and did pirouettes inside her ribcage; she could back out now.

No, money was short, she was on her last one hundred. Food was scarce, Daiya couldn't even remember the last time they handed out rations in her residential area anymore. She could try to get work again, preferably one that didn't involve factory work where she could easily be replaced by some robot that was programmed to do every single little task perfectly _for free_. Book keeping and secretary work wasn't really something she could find on Zone 1; she could go to the surface, since there was a rule about no robots there.

Would that mean she would have to move to the surface? Could she afford a place up there? Would they let her commute to and from Zone 1?

No, there was probably some secretary robot that could perfectly file everything and take calls, or if there wasn't one, there would be one soon and she would quickly be replaced. _Again._

Daiya gritted her teeth, shaking hands tugging down her skirt and adjusting the lacy straps of her garters. She prayed that this would go well and she wouldn't wind up dead and thrown into the sewage. Violet eyes glared daggers up at the surface, not that she could see anything with all the pipes and the smoke and the buildings in the way.

America was supposed to be the place of opportunity, wasn't it? Metropolis was supposed to be the place to go, it was perfect and it would be heavenly once the Zigguraut was completed—though that wouldn't be for months or maybe another year. Hopefully, things would be better by then.

_Ha, yeah right._

She sighed, leaning against a wall covered with faded movie posters featuring bottle blondes with glittering sapphires for eyes and tall dark and handsome strangers whisking heroines to a world of sordid passion and white lilies.

When was the day that that sort of thing was going to happen to _her_? Daiya didn't have to have a perfect serendipity kind of romance where she would bump into a man at the office, her body crashing onto the ground and papers flying everywhere and a single hand would reach out to her where she would look up and see a dazzling young man with skin soft as the petals of a daisy, gunmetal blue eyes that were bright and clear as the skies and a smile so refreshing that it was like water on an August day.

She shook her head, now wasn't really the time to think about romance. She sighed, shrugging off the vermillion trench coat she wore, letting it hang off of her elbows. She stayed like this for what felt like hours, no one took the bait—not that she really tried, she just tried giving what she hoped was a seductive look and crossed her legs. The only time someone approached her was to ask if she wanted to buy stolen watches or if she had a lighter.

Fuck it, she was done. She was going to drink until she was blacked the fuck out. She checked if she had enough money for a cheap beer at least—even though drinking carbonated stale piss sounded more appetizing, _but wait that's what beer tasted like anyway Daiya._ Satisfied that she had enough for a cheap drink—maybe she could give out handjobs if she didn't have enough _oh dear, oh scandalous_.

She strolled towards the nearest bar, or what she thought was the nearest place. It was more of a stand in the streets with a few chairs rather than an actual bar but it was good enough. It wasn't crowded and filled with smoke and piles and piles of beer mugs that middle aged salarymen were drowning themselves in, which wasn't something that Daiya horribly missed. Her eyes lit up once she saw the bar, picking up the pace before sitting down.

It was pretty much empty, save for a couple of men talking about being laid off _because of the fucking robots and how sick they were of this shit Tony_ and a young man in a baseball cap and sunglasses sitting by himself. Daiya sighed, sitting a seat away from the young man, her eyes flickering from the bartender making his way towards her and the young man who was slowly rocking back and forth in his seat.

"Can I get you anything, Miss?"

"...Carbonated pi—I mean, a cold beer, please." She muttered, eyes still drifting towards the man as one leg swiftly crossed over the other. A smile appeared on her dark painted lips while she batted her fake eyelashes at the barkeep, giggling to herself when she felt the young man's eyes on her.

The sound of wobbly steps on uneven brick made its way to her ears and a noise that could either be described as a soft crash or a violent 'plop' in the seat next to her made her nearly jump. Her glass was placed in front of her, which kept her from looking beside her as she dug around in her pockets for the little money she had on her.

"I... I'll get it."

Daiya blinked, finally looking beside her, only to see the man she was staring at beside her. He slammed a bill onto the counter, the loud noise making her jump once again and the impact of his hand making her glass rattle on the counter. The bartender nodded, taking the bill and slipping off to the other end of the counter.

"Thank you," Daiya purred—though it honestly sounded like a high school sophomore clumsily trying to get the new young substitute teacher to give her the chemistry test answers like in all her high school movies than anything truly seductive.

"No problem..." He mumbled, though Daiya could hear the smile in his voice, as if he was proud of himself for paying for someone else's drink. He glanced over at her, pulling down his large sunglasses slightly, revealing a pair of cloudy eyes that were an intense shade of blue that shone even in the dim street lights.

Daiya swallowed the saliva collecting in her mouth before finally taking a sip of her beer which seemed strangely good right now for God knows why. She grimaced at the taste, it was barely colder than room temperature and it was bitter and flat yet too fizzy at all the same time. She continued to glance at the man beside her, noticing how shiny and well kept his hair was under his hat...

She wanted to touch it, wondering if it would feel good balled up in her fists while he—Whoa, lewd thoughts, she didn't even know who this was but there was nothing wrong with fantasizing about someone that bought her a drink right? Maybe this was the way her romance novel or movie would start? Not nearly as romantic as meeting in a meadow while she was making flower crowns out of clovers and buttercups or braiding daisies into her stormy coloured hair or caught reading the same novel on the subway or crashing into each other.

"Hey."

"Hm...?"

He leaned in a bit closer, close enough for his warm breath to ghost over her flesh, causing small bumps to appear on her skin. She could feel her face becoming more warm and flushed, was it from the drink or was it from him? The creaking of his seat under his weight shifting closer to her made her bite her lip.

"This'll sound real bad but... I'm," He snickers before continuing, "I'm the leader... Leader of the... Marduks."

His voice hushes down to a low whisper in her ear, making her shudder violently and her jagged nails to drum on the counter. Wait—Marduks? Wasn't that that secret police that gunned down robots—_Ohlordhe'spullingawaypleasedon'tgo_...

"R-really...?" Daiya would be lying if she said that she wasn't impressed by that. She had heard that the leader was a young man, but would never actually see him when the Marduks would wander down to Zone 1, just other men and the occasional woman in woven blue sweaters and black suspenders with machine guns. "Why would you bring this up, Mister...?" Her voice is quiet and hushed, so that the bartender wouldn't hear nor would those older men that might have not left yet.

"'M Rock... My name's... my name's Rock, call me that. _CallmeRock_..."

"Rock..." The name felt good on her tongue; it felt like warm hot chocolate sprinkled lightly with cinnamon filling her mouth and down her throat. "That doesn't answer my question..."

"Because a," Rock hesitates, grabbing the beer he bought for Daiya and downing it before continuing—wowthanksasshole-and looking straight at her with those intense blue eyes. "Because a pretty girl like you might not be interested, ya know? I wanna..." He starts letting out this laugh, which starts off more like a purr before melting off into small giggles.

Even if he was drunk, Daiya couldn't help but feel a little flattered—Oh, she should take this chance to...

"Well, for the right price... I might be interested..."

He blinks, rolling those words in his head before nodding three or four times. Oh, he gets it. He gets it now. Yes.

"H-how much?"

"Depends on how long you want, or what you want, Mister Rock.~"

"...I can go all night, I-I can..." Another fit of giggles, "_R-rock your world._"

Daiya had no idea how that line had worked but now she was pulling this man into her bedroom after stumbling towards her apartment for about twenty minutes, his shaky hands yanking her coat and clumsily trying to undo the buttons on her blouse and she's swatting his hands away so she could take care of herself.

There was clumsy and awfully wet kisses on her mouth—smearing the purple lipstick across her face—and neck and collarbone and lower strokes of his hand across the swell of her breasts and stomach and—ohgodwasn'tthissortofthingsupposedtowindupwithhermakinghimfeelgood?!

There's laughter, Daiya isn't sure if its coming from him or from her at this point, when he tries to open a condom wrapper with his teeth because his hands are too shaky right now. She pulls it out of his hands, easily ripping the plastic open and pulling out the latex before sliding it onto his dick—which was a little shorter than average but who honestly cared when he was good with his hands and mouth even when he was drunk holy shit—before he positioned himself above her. It takes a few tries and misses before he can finally get inside.

The night was filled with gasps and pants and a lot more clumsy kisses—with the occasional bites and suckling on her neck, marking her peachy flesh with deep red splotches and indents. When Daiya woke up, he was gone and there was a small pile of bills on the night stand along with a phone number.

_Well shit, that was better than she had expected._


End file.
